


Perfect Stillness

by autumnnightsandlavendertea



Series: Bridgerton [3]
Category: Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Watching Someone Sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:08:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29882289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumnnightsandlavendertea/pseuds/autumnnightsandlavendertea
Summary: The one where Anthony Bridgerton gets some sleep (on Kate).
Relationships: Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sharma, Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sheffield
Series: Bridgerton [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2146812
Comments: 17
Kudos: 129





	Perfect Stillness

Kate gazed at the drawn curtains of their bedroom at Aubrey Hall. The sounds of early-morning rain contributing to the tranquility inside of her. It was always different here—this bedroom, this _home_ —if walls could talk, they’d scream of the stories buried deep within her husband’s heart. 

The boisterous tales of what he was like as a child. The thrilling feats in their adventures growing up. Anthony shared much with her—he’d told her of memories old and new, but here in Aubrey Hall, she felt them. She'd always felt them. It was, after all, where she fell in love with him. For a place that had seen grave loss, it was warm and beautiful. It was full of love, inviting and vulnerable.

Anthony was sound asleep beside her and for the first time, she had awakened without him being alerted of it. She considered rising early for tea, but the sight of him made her heart ache.

She could not count the number of times she’d awaken after him—knowing that he had often stayed awake when something troubled him. Knowing he'd rise early for whatever duties entailed. Knowing he couldn't sleep well. Though he'd often share the dreams of her that would consume him, still she knew, sleep did not come easy for him.

She wished for his rest more than anything—especially now, in this very moment, when he looked so perfectly idyllic. 

Propelled by intimacy and exhaustion, they’d both found themselves tangled in slumber before. And yet, he always arose before her. If she would even move an inch because of her leg, he would awaken with her.

Always the first.

She’d been sitting up in their bed for a while now, questioning and longing and memorizing his face.

She watched his eyelids move and when he finally opened them, his penetrating brown eyes met hers in dazzling oblivion.

“Good morning,” he mumbled, smiling at the sight of her—beautiful and transfixing.

“Good morning, husband.”

He growled something low and incoherent, if there were words, she couldn’t decipher them. His arms moved swiftly to wrap around her.

“Did you sleep well?” she asked, smiling as he moved near her thighs.

“Mhmmm.”

He moved the sheets that covered her skin to bare her before him, stealthily kissing whatever part of her his mouth fell on—still half asleep.

He buried his face in her legs, kissing and turning slowly to look up at her. To lie on her. To gaze and fall and selfishly free himself while fighting his heavy eyelids to continue taking in the sight of her. 

She threaded her fingers through his hair, mindlessly but still with meticulous care, stroked his thick locks as she watched him close his eyes.

He groaned deeply.

“Don’t stop, Kate. Please,” surprising even himself with the desperation in his voice. He always needed his wife. He’d always admit to that, but sometimes—God, sometimes, it felt like a psychedelic fall.

Eons of exhaustion and heavy burdens lifting into the sky.

Like a child free of all darkness—every worry, every heartache.

_Safe._

No matter what he did, no matter what he tried, he’d want more. Always more.

“How long have you been this way, my love? The sleepless nights,” Kate asked. The agony shooting through the delicacy of her tone nearly broke him. 

He sighed—looked up at her and took her unoccupied hand in his, placing a kiss on the tender center of her palm.

“I don’t know. Perhaps, ages now.”

She looked to him for a few moments. Her fingers traced the lines on his face. The corners of his tired eyes. His lips. “What can I do to help?”

“You already are. Keep going” he grinned with deep contentment and vulnerability.

“If you needed me to stroke your hair for hours on end, sweet husband, you merely had to say the words,” leaning down she planted a gentle kiss on his forehead before resuming the languid kneading she’d found delightful rhythm in.

Kate leaned back against the headboard, she watched the rise and fall of Anthony’s chest—listened to the compelling sound of his steady breathing.

He’d fallen asleep again and she relished in the sight. Treasured the detail that he could and would rely on her.

He’d let her take care of him.

He’d let her be his anchor.

She’d always been patient with Anthony, waiting for the right moments to uncover whatever was shattering within him—whatever demon, whatever uncertainty. She never wanted to push, but where he gave her an opening, she’d sprint in effortlessly, molding herself into wherever he allowed, cementing her breath and soul into the parts of him that needed her most.

If she could help him sleep, then she’d stay in this very position for as long as he needed. She’d keep her hands in his hair and leave no strand untouched. She’d use her fingers, lips and tongue to map out every part of his body—so long as he needed.

She thought of all the moments of dread he had lived through without her, needing someone—anyone, to hold him a little closer and let him sleep while they kept the fires still.

He’d stayed awake all night with his father after he'd died. The nights when nightmares kept up Gregory and Hyacinth. He’d stayed awake the night he dueled with Simon worrying about what would come of him—hoping that perhaps he could escape and yet deep in his bones, knowing he would never. He’d stayed awake on more than one occasion wondering what the former viscount would say about the man he’d become. He’d stayed awake when Kate suffered from her nightmare. And he'd stayed awake on countless nights when Kate was recovering.

He had stayed awake far too many times one man should and did so without complaints. He had paid the price and suffered the aftermaths of exhaustion and sorrow, finding himself deep into bottles of brandy with no way of true release. And he never believed he would—

Until Kate.

Because of Kate.

With Kate.

He'd find every type of release with her.

An hour or so passed, she didn’t keep count. She’d keep him there for as long as he wanted.

_Thank heavens she was fully recovered._

“You are extraordinary, wife,” his voice hoarse and dazed, his eyes still closed.

He propped himself off her slowly, and turned towards his side of the bed, pulling her down with him.

“Fulfilling duties and such” she responded, kissing his chest with agonizing and deliberate coordination. The sound of his growing heartbeat sent shivers all the way down to her toes—into her bones. She moved her lips to his neck. “If and when,” she paused to _kiss his jaw_ “you cannot sleep,” _his nose and cheeks_ “wake me up,” she finished _with his lips._

No matter how much time passed, Anthony was convinced that he’d never completely understand the mystery of his wife’s strength—the way she could set him ablaze and calm the flames concurrently.

She was his very undoing. 

“If I did that, then I wouldn’t be able to watch you sleep. And breathe. I wouldn’t be able to marvel at the sight of you, count each breath you take, or continue burning memories of your beautiful form into my brain to keep forever. It’s sensational bliss I thank the Heavens for,” he cupped her cheeks as if she were to fly away and placed a gentle, searing kiss on her lips.

She’d give him a pass at that, she had thanked the Heavens just moments earlier as she watched him surrender to sleep. She too had marveled at the sound of his breathing and every part of his form too.

"Excellent point, husband. However—I’d like to do watching too. All is fair in love and... _sleep_ , is it not?” Smiling at the memory of their very first Pall Mall game. 

"Well, when you put it that way...It is indeed. But right now," he tightened his arms around her, "I want to hold you a little while longer. Sleep deprivation and all, you wouldn’t deny your husband that would you?” he smiled.

“How could I ever deny that?” she said, running her fingers through the hair on his chest—she revered every part of him; covered him like armor. 

The daze of falling in and out of sleep with Kate by his side was the very antidote that stilled him. The very warmth he needed to let himself give in to his tired bones and limbs that had been crushed and abandoned too many times in the hands of others.

Exiled from the rest of the world, damned if he did, damned if he didn’t, but with every precious touch—every kiss and every look, Kate brought him to cathartic repose. “You have no idea what you do to me, Kate. I burn and quake mercilessly at the mere thought of you and yet, I’ve never felt such perfect stillness,” he whispered while stroking her hair—lost in the daze of serenity and the intoxicating essence of her.

“You are mine, Anthony Bridgerton—mine to adore and mine to take care of—Heaven knows I’d walk through thunder and lighting for you." She tightened her grip on his form, forcing a deep, tired growl of need to leave him in the process, then she placed a wondrously gentle kiss to where his heart pulsed just for her.

_For them._

And for the life of chaos and calm they’d build together.

**Author's Note:**

> We all know this sweet baby angel doesn't sleep well so I just needed to write through him sleeping on Kate while she laid awake and watched him. He's always taking care of others and it's high time someone takes care of him. In other words, I had feelings again. Thank you for reading--hope you enjoyed!


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